I've spent my entire life reading.

Enid Blyton books were my first introduction to the world of literature and I was absolutely taken by it.

The power of the pen.

It took me so many places I'd never been before.

Years later, I write.

Mostly for myself but I do know what it is I'd like people to feel.

As I grew, my tastes broadened.

My love for reading sometimes waned but never vanished.

It mingled with a love for movies, the drama section of literature and then poetry.

I want people who read my work to see two things.

First, me.

At least the piece of me I decide to place between the lines.

These things I've written all have links to who I am.

And maybe they can't see that

But I get to express it.

I get to see those little self-Easter eggs

And I adore putting to words things within me,

Hidden behind a name that is and isn't mine

Onto a screen that keeps me apart

Yet weirdly connected for a beat

To the reader.

I hope my readers find some peace where I want them to and some discomfort where I prefer that.

I hope that - like me - they look at my work and see a small piece of them, sometimes.

I use writing as a way to understand myself and the deeper recesses of my mind that I usually prefer to ignore.

I often feel like a broken record but

If something I put out into the world

Makes a few people smile or feel a bit of the pain I felt or think?

Then I caused a ripple effect.

I did something that will bother someone, even if only for a second or minute.

For a moment, I was a part of a life that wasn't my own,

One I will never have to know the ins and outs of,

And my scribbles caused a genuine momentary shift.

That's the power art has had on me many, many times.

It's the greatest honour of all to have the same magic flowing through my fingertips.

This alone is enough.

When I look at art pieces

or any other form of art,

I don't just look,

I stare at them.

Several minutes fly by,

however little or not at all

do I notice that.

With tilted head and widened

eyes, I consider, "How cool!

How did they manage to

create this masterpiece?!"

I find myself smiling

bright white and giggling,

"I'm moved by your work!

I had lost my hope of achieving

this dream but nice going...

thanks to you, artist I do not

know, your work has re-lit a

fire under me!

So I'll get up

though I had fallen to depths

hope couldn't reach and try

again to aspire, an artist I'll be. When others lay eyes

on my work, it's desired

they'd feel inspiration

rising up inside of them

like today you've done for me.

when I am writing

...it seems...to you...

there is this beautiful

ah! illusion of fiilling

... the emptiness ...

in ways our Reality

in Itself never could.

05.02.2023

You art feeling challenge @Matteo

What I want people to feel when they see my art?

The spark, the tireless motivation that seems to burst from me when I take on some 'meaningless' task and turn it into some sort of masterpiece and I'm staring at it like I just painted the grandest acrylic painting in less than an hour before shrugging, feeling like 'eh, I could do better' and churning out another six and repeating on the one that strikes out to me. Usually the doodles. And then I might relax a bit, ask people what they think and then laugh and talk about where the journey put me at the end and how I actually meant to end it.

It's like a permanent memory of what I was doing, exactly when and where. What I was feeling, like the way people snap photos of themselves. Selfies, I guess, and so I'm showing it to people like 'look at my selfie, don't I look ridiculous?' and they might pop off into some jovial conversation with me and we might talk loudly at each other for a minute.

I want my stuff to be the opening to a grander conversation, on the emotional highs, the things that aren't about me but about the work and then we might stuff our faces with tea and meals from Wendy's or that local creperie. I don't care where. I just want to talk about the thing that was made, the emotions that evoked to see if I hit my mark and that they caught on. That it reminded them of memory they had of themselves so they might draw them up, tell me a little story like my art was the toll, the proverbial coin, to learn a new piece of information I otherwise wasn't privy to.

scared

intrigued

all the inner thoughts

everyone has told you to push away

i want you read when you see my name

on your page

happy

hopeful

if i don't say it who will?

sad

understood

"how could after all this time

i don't see the sun

but sushi_trash

wrote something

i needed to hear

or something that made me think

or something that down right entertained me"

what do i want people to see in my poetry?

me.

Visible.

Validated.

Stepping out of a life that caused me to hide away from my true self, I want to liberate those still hiding in the corners. Hiding from their own reflection and the fears that are instigated by others.

When we share our art that is formed from the depths of our souls and saturated in our emotions and experiences, we free others from loneliness. When someone can take your feelings you have pulsating through your body and put them into words, paint them on a canvas or play them in a melody, we find each other in our rawest forms. It unites people. It empowers people that may feel trapped in silence. When we share our bruises and celebrate our healing, we teach those still lost in pits of despair that we are all defective in some way and we break the illusion of normalcy.

Life is individualized and our differences should be applauded while enjoying the things that bring us together. The human condition, what makes us imperfectly perfect. We are all infected. The treatment is simple. Kindness and understanding.

We all could use a dose of that.

I've heard that when you take acid, you can see the trees breathing; the veins in your hands turn into rainbows, circling your muscles and bones as if touched by magic. I've heard that bad acid trips will leave you alone in the dark, fighting for your life on your way to the bathroom, your demons clawing their way out of your consciousness.

When people see my art, it's not going to be a revelation, not anything that's going to reconnect neurons. It's just going to exist, but hopefully with something 'extra' that makes it my own, something that will spark inspiration in someone else.

I want a rainbow to appear on the horizon as they read my writing, though it may only exist for a moment, a second of illumination that makes them look twice.

I want readers to feel disjointed after reading my writing; I want them to think about what I've written later that day, in the car on their way to the grocery store, sitting in their claustrophobic cubicle while dreading the forty hour week ahead. I want them to connect with what I say, but in a way where they don't realize its impact until they need it, when they're struggling and think - she went through this, too.

When readers read my writing, I want them to feel less alone. When I write, I'm coming from a vulnerable place, and hopefully I can give someone else the courage to write from their vulnerable places, too.

Everyone hears, but doesn't listen,

Everyone looks but can't see,

They're eyes touch the surface but don't go any deeper,

You don't just want to be comforted, you want to be understood.

When people see my art, I want them to feel listened to, seen, validated and more than anything, understood. I want them to feel a crashing down of emotions and discover things about themselves they didn't know. I want them to feel as broken as they are, because there's no going forward ignoring the past.

Scrolling through the site

and seeing what i write,

sitting in the crowd

and watching actors be loud and proud,

walking through the park

and noticing my art,

the biggest thing I'd love

more than anything above

is to feel understanding

and hate disbanding.

the heart-strings tugged

as my art pulls you in and you're drugged

acceptance and love

is what i want you to think of

and feel deep inside

with a strong sense of pride.

and, like me,

have a deep moment of reminder that

life is

truly

worth living

My finest form of art happens to be painting not writing, so here goes.

When a stranger sees my art I was them to feel it.

I want them to feel the paint strokes. I want them to wish they could reach out and touch it with their fingertips.

I want them to well up with tears.

I want it to remind them of their childhood.

That time that their favorite aunt took them to the art museum, how she gawked at the paintings. A habit they hadn't understood at the time.

I want them to understand it now. I want them to be flooded with love and compassion.

I want to inspire them to pick up that paint brush again.

I want to inspire them to be kinder.

I want them to leave me an email telling me all this because I crave recognition as all artists do.